


An Awful Long Walk

by Skittery



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:36:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skittery/pseuds/Skittery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "I'm trying to flirt with you, okay?" Crutchie/Spot</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Awful Long Walk

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "I'm trying to flirt with you, okay?" Crutchie/Spot

Spot seemed to drop from the sky onto the cobblestones next to him, landing lightly like a tiny cat and shifting immediately into a position leaning casually against the wall of a building, his hands crossed loosely across his chest. Crutchie looked back at him incredulously, lowering the newspaper he had been waving in the late afternoon air a few seconds ago. “Where’d you come from?”

Spot shrugged, and Crutchie tried not to notice how the muscles in his arms rippled with the slight movement. “I was lookin’ for you,” Spot replied, a smile glinting in his eyes even as he kept the rest of his face impassive. “Yer a hard one ta find.”

Crutchie frowned, “You should’ve just asked Jack, he knows my usual sellin’ spots.”

Spot shook his head, but didn’t reply. He looked as though the idea of asking Jack was both unpleasant and distasteful. Strange, Crutchie thought, since Jack and Spot are old friends. Pondering this, Crutchie found his eyes drawn again to the curves and lines of Spot’s muscles; after a moment he realized Spot’s lips had curled into a smirk, and Crutchie felt an instant surge of embarrassment. 

There was an awkward moment of silence. Then Spot shifted himself slightly against the wall so that his body was more directly positioned towards Crutchie’s, in a way that might have been less menacing if he hadn’t kept his arms tautly crossed.

“You oughta come out to Brooklyn more often,” Spot said finally.

Crutchie laughed nervously, “What’s in Brooklyn we ain’t got around here?”

The attempt at lightening the strange mood seemed to fall flat; Spot’s smirk turned momentarily to a frown, then he smiled. “Brooklyn’s the best city in the world, ev’ry’ne knows that,” he said expansively. He paused, then, “You’d like it, I guarantee.”

Crutchie lightly fingered the newspaper in his hand, feeling the light ridges of the ink letters pressed on the paper. “Well Brooklyn’s an awful long walk for me.” He gestured stupidly to his leg, as though he needed to point it out.

Spot grinned, and uncrossed his arms for a moment to gesticulate, “That ain’t a problem! Nah, bet I could carry you there easy. And I wouldn’t mind that trip too much, neither.” 

Spot re-crossed his arms in a satisfied way, and Crutchie felt indignation boiling up inside him the way he did when anyone suggested he couldn’t do the same thing as all the other boys. Even though he had technically brought it up, he glared at Spot. “Oh yeah? Well I don’t want no one carryin’ me. What’re you tryin’ to say, I’m some helpless cripple?!” Crutchie had crumpled up the paper in his hand so that it was now beyond sellable, and he could feel his face growing red.

Spot looked momentarily horrified, then slightly amused. “I’m not sayin’ you can’t take care of yourself.”

Crutchie exhaled forcefully, feeling the indignation melting away from him, albeit more slowly than it had appeared. Mostly, he just felt confused, and annoyed that Spot had come out of nowhere and caused him to ruin a paper, money he’d just be eating now. “What are you sayin’ then?”

Spot sighed, “I’m tryin’ to flirt with you, okay?”

Crutchie felt thunderstruck; he could feel his mouth fall open with surprise that was not altogether unpleasant. Spot grinned at him. “So I’ll see ya soon,” he said as he turned and walked away up the street, a slight lilt in his step that undermined the tough guy stance he held himself in. Crutchie watched him go, feeling strange and excited and not caring even a tiny bit about the ruined paper.


End file.
